


Imagine Me and You

by maydayparade8123



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Marriage Proposal, cringe-inducing amounts of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-30
Updated: 2014-08-30
Packaged: 2018-02-15 11:30:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2227386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maydayparade8123/pseuds/maydayparade8123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Percy's going to propose. He swears. AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Imagine Me and You

**Author's Note:**

> what in the world have i done
> 
> i apologize for any nausea i cause percy is the sweetest most wonderful person i have ever written about
> 
> title is from [happy together](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9ZEURntrQOg) by the turtles and [luna](http://lunaparr.tumblr.com/) is the very best beta/friend and she deserves all things good

Percy's going to propose. He swears.

It's just—it's _time_ , and Percy knows there's no way she won't say yes. It's for that reason he wants to make it big; something important and unforgettable, something meaningful and planned out, something she wouldn't expect from him in a million years.

The truth is, everyone knows he's going to propose. Even Annabeth knows, he's sure. He knows what the answer will be— _everyone_ knows the answer, and they’re all waiting with bated breath for Percy to pop the question. He can see himself slipping a ring on Annabeth’s finger; can feel the way her lips’ll press firmly against his after she says yes. It’s all a matter of how he’ll get to that point.

He likes to imagine what their life’ll be like after. Percy likes to imagine Annabeth batting his hands away when he tries to carry her through their door, bridal style. He likes to wonder about what their kids will look like—mini-Annabeth’s, he hopes, since one Percy is more than enough for him. He envisions himself introducing her as his wife, taking a picture of their daughter resting peacefully against Annabeth’s chest, swinging Annabeth’s hand while they make their way down grocery aisles, discussing what they need to buy for the kids. Percy has the clearest image of how great their lives will be.

But, first, he should probably buy the ring.

;;

The first thing Percy tries is the classic, timeless ring-in-wine-glass proposal.

He’s dressed to the nines, waiting outside Annabeth’s office with one of her favorite dresses in a garment bag draped over his arm. She’ll scold him for wrinkling it, Percy knows, but she’ll probably smile, too.

 _Tonight's the night_ , Percy thinks. Annabeth will be his fiance by the time they're stumbling through their front door, drunk off love and each other's presence.

Annabeth finally pushes the glass door open, and Percy's smile is blinding.

;;

They've known each other for what feels like forever. Percy met Annabeth at the sandbox in the first grade, where she didn't hesitate to enlist him in building the perfect sandcastle.

That didn't go well for several reasons, the first of which being the artificial sand that refused to make a sturdy wall for their fortress. Annabeth huffed in annoyance after her third try, narrowed her eyes at the pale sand, and walked away without another word.

Percy didn't talk to Annabeth again until the sixth grade, where they were announced as partners for the annual science fair. Turns out, Annabeth's pretty good at science, and also pretty in general. They were fast friends.

He knows how rare it is to marry someone you've known since elementary school; knows that most people get out in the world and find something better, but Percy doesn't think there's anyone better than Annabeth. He would have stayed in that sandbox all day, uselessly trying to form the walls of that castle if it was what she wanted.

;;

"I'll take... This lobster thing," Percy decides, far less eloquent than he had hoped to be. He glances at Annabeth with a small smile, nervous and excited for what'll happen next. The box suddenly feels heavy on his thigh, despite the fact that it’s surely less than a pound. Idly resting his hand atop perhaps the most important thing he’s purchased, ever, he addresses the waiter. "And please tell Jason we want wine. I can't remember what kind I like."

Flimsy lie, Percy knows, and Annabeth opens her mouth to probably tell him what kind is his favorite, but he speaks before she can get a word in edgewise. "Right. And breadsticks?"

"Of course, sir," his server says with a kind smile. Percy returns it briefly before turning his attention back to Annabeth.

“How was work?” Percy listens to Annabeth answer—complaining about her incompetent co-workers as per usual—and hums along at just the right moments. He keeps his eyes just over her shoulder, looking for a blonde head of hair that’ll be delivering Annabeth and Percy’s wine—already informed of the diversion he’ll have to create while Percy seamlessly places the ring at the bottom of her glass.

“It’s just ridiculous,” she continues, sipping on the complementary water, running her hands through her hair like she does when she’s frustrated. Sometimes, on particularly bad days, she’ll let Percy do the honors—and he’ll spend hours working the knots out of her curls while they watch re-runs. Some of the best moments of his life happen within those hours. “I don’t understand what’s so difficult about creating a website that lives up to Salinger’s standards. We _all_ took the course on website building.”

“Yeah, you all took it,” Percy agrees, finally spotting Jason exiting the kitchen with a bottle of wine and two glasses in hand. A flurry of anxiety spins in his stomach before creeping up into his chest, and judging by the way it flutters and lingers, he’s guessing those nerves are here to stay. He places a hand over his sternum and rubs lightly, giving the go-ahead nod when Jason raises his eyebrows to ask if the plan’s still on. “But no one paid attention like you did, I’ll bet. You should just tell your co-worker to get you some coffee and build it yourself, you know.”

Annabeth gives him a little smile—one he only gets to see every so often; the one that says ‘you know me better than anyone, and I’m glad it’s you.’ “Already did,” she says, proudly. “Salinger’s very pleased with the result.”

Percy grins broadly at his girlfriend. “Of course he is.” He smiles to himself when Annabeth presses her high heels against his black dress shoes. Percy’s confident she’ll say yes before he even even gets the question out, but she still has the power to make him nervous beyond belief—regardless of countless years spent in each other’s pockets. One would think that, at some point, Percy would develop an immunity to all things Annabeth.

“Hi there, you two,” Jason greets, friendly as ever. He sets a glass in front of Percy, and one in front of Annabeth. There’s a tea towel draped over his arm, the one he’s supposed to drop, and the one Annabeth’s supposed to spend a few seconds picking up while Percy places the ring at the bottom of her glass. It’ll be perfect. “Wine?”

“None for me,” Annabeth declines, making a little face like she regrets saying it. Percy blinks at her. “I still have some work to do tonight, and I won’t get anything done at all if I drink any of that.” She laughs a little, drawing some shape in the condensation of her glass of water, and Percy’s world crashes in on itself.

“No wine?” he asks, trying to sound casual and questioning, but falling more in the range of anxious and panicking. His eyes flicker to Jason’s, but his blonde friend fish mouths unhelpfully. This wasn’t in the plan; he hadn’t even considered the possibility of Annabeth _not drinking wine_. How hadn’t he taken that into consideration?

She reaches across the counter and grabs onto his hand, achingly domestic, which is kind of the goal, here. He wants to take on the world with her, even if it entails creating sandcastles from impossible sand. “Maybe some other time. I can still have a happy anniversary without alcohol.”

Percy’s mouth opens a little, ready to tell her that if she gets wine, the anniversary will be a hell of a lot better, but he feels like there’s a reason Annabeth’s requested no wine. Maybe a warning from some divine force, telling him that it’s not quite time. Percy considers trying to convince her to have at least a glass, but if there’s one thing he’s learned, it’s that Annabeth doesn’t often change her mind. “Right,” he says, disconcerted. He gestures for Jason to pour him some wine, motioning again when his friend stops pouring when the glass is half-full, only stopping the blonde when the red liquid’s brushing the lip of the curved glass.

He ends up asking Jason to just leave the bottle with him, and finishes it off on his own. The ring weighs heavy in his pocket, but Percy’s eyelids are heavier when Annabeth herds him into her car after dinner.

;;

Annabeth kissed Percy for the first time in the seventh grade. Percy still declares it was the best day of his life, finding out that his best friend felt something for him beyond the realm of platonic admiration.

It was at the end of the school year. They were lingering by the front gate, both waiting for their parents to pick them up, and Percy decided he should tell Annabeth about something his mom had mentioned the night before.

“Moving?” Annabeth asked, brow dipping in confusion. “You’re joking.” Percy told her that he wasn’t kidding in the slightest, despite his typically light-hearted nature, and she proceeded to punch his arm and say one of the most heart-breaking things Percy’s ever heard, to this day.

“You can’t leave,” Annabeth said, dangerously calm, “I need you.”

Before Percy could even muster up a reply to such a candid statement, Annabeth’s phone was ringing in her hand, her father announcing that he had arrived to take her home. She stared at Percy for a moment after ending the brief conversation with her dad, leaned forward and kissed him simply, then walked out the front gates without another word.

When Percy showed up to their shared homeroom on the first day of eighth grade year, his mom having changed her mind about relocating, the blonde seemed to have no recollection on the kiss. Percy tried to act like it didn’t happen, too, but that didn’t stop him from blushing every time Annabeth leaned an inch closer to him.

She kissed him again on field day after their team wins. They also got sent to the principal’s office for a violation of the code of student conduct, but Annabeth talked them out of it smoothly while Percy wondered when—if at all—he’d get to kiss her again.

;;

Percy’s next idea is the one. For sure.

He plans a week ahead, calling Annabeth’s highly intimidating boss and begging the man to give his future-wife a day off. Mr. Salinger allegedly shows no mercy, so long as proposals aren’t involved. The man’s rigid policy towards missing work is tossed aside the moment Percy lets it slip that he’s trying to propose. He ends the call with a plan set in stone, and a very emphatic wish of good luck from Annabeth’s boss.

He starts out slow. Monday, he drops a hint about a weekend vacation, just to unwind. Tuesday he references a memory they had at his mom’s beach house. Wednesday, he asks her if she’d be adverse to a beach trip, and Annabeth elbows his stomach gently and tells him to stop tempting her with things she can’t have. Thursday, Percy wakes her up with a kiss on the cheek, humming “Wouldn’t It Be Nice” by The Beach Boys. He was never a master at subtlety.

He checks on the ring twice a day at minimum—stashing it in the far corner of their sock drawer, inside of the ugliest pair of socks he owns. Annabeth hates them passionately, cringes every time she sees them, and it’s for that reason he chooses to hide the ring there. Annabeth wouldn’t touch that pair of socks if her life depended on it.

The ring is simple—a silver band that'll look nothing short of breathtaking against Annabeth's skin tone with a square diamond. Their initials are engraved on the inside of the ring, and from time to time Percy regrets it, but he also knows Annabeth will love how personalized it is; how no one in the world could mistake this wedding ring to be anyone else's.

Percy packs his bag for the weekend and pulls a duffle bag out for Annabeth, too. When she walks through the door, he's made a mess of their closet and his dresser, but she's giving him a confused smile anyways. "What are you doing, Jackson?"

"Packing, Chase," Percy replies, narrowing his eyes at her a little, like he’s trying to read her mind. "What are your thoughts on a weekend at the beach?"

Annabeth shrugs, leaning against the door frame. "My thoughts are that it sounds nice. But—"

Percy claps his hands together once, bright smile on his face. "That's great! Now pack your bag." She opens her mouth to say something, probably a gentle protest, but Percy tosses the bag at her before she can get a word out. "I already talked to your boss, you have tomorrow off, yada yada."

Annabeth raises one perfectly trimmed eyebrow. Percy has no clue how she does that, since he can't stand any sort of pain in his eyebrow region. He can usually beg his way out of getting them waxed, but Annabeth claims that she can only take so much of his monstrous facial hair. (It's hardly that bad, honestly, he's just got a bit of stubble on his jaw, and Annabeth's told him time and time again that she loves it on him.)

"For the whole weekend?" She clutches the bag closer to her chest, stepping further into the room they share. Percy loves that—loves how it's not always easy to tell what belongs to who, loves that half of his shirts are stuffed into Annabeth's drawers, loves that she doesn't mind when he borrows one of her over-sized windbreakers. "Me and you?"

"Whole weekend," Percy echoes, "me and you, you and me. Maybe a little alcohol. Probably a fair amount of kissing." He pauses, smiling over at her from where he’s stuffing more articles of clothing into his bag. " _Hopefully_ a fair amount of kissing?"

Annabeth rolls her eyes, reaching over his shoulder to grab a few pairs of socks. Her hand skims the awful pair that holds the ring, and Percy quickly scoops them up, shoving them into his own bag.

Annabeth gives him a warning look. "If you wear those in public, I'll break up with you."

"I don't doubt that you will," Percy assures her, rubbing at her hip, tipping his chin up until she takes the hint and gives him a greeting kiss. "Promise I won't."

She nods, packs the rest of her bag in an efficient and neat manner, a stark contrast to Percy's unfolded, unorganized mess of a bag. "When are we leaving?"

Percy clears his throat and rolls his shoulders, resting all of his weight on his bag so he can pull the zipper across. "As soon as you finish packing.” The zipper gets caught on something, and Percy mentally shakes his fist towards the heavens when he notices just what’s preventing him from closing his bag.

Calmly, so that he doesn’t alert Annabeth of an issue that she would surely try to help him with, he tugs at the multi-colored sock, attempting to loosen it from the zipper’s evil, _evil_ grasp.

“When I’m done?” She pulls her own zipper neatly across her bag, turning to him with an expectant look. “Ready?”

“Yes, absolutely,” Percy answers, pulling harshly at the damned socks. Annabeth glances down, already holding out a hand to help and Percy needs to stop that _now_. “I got it!” he exclaims, reaching out an arm to fend her off. “It’s—fine. I can handle it. Um.”

Annabeth gives him a weird look, like he’s speaking another language. She might even be a little offended. “Okay… I was just going to help?”

“And I love you for that,” Percy reassures her, hoping that’s the right thing to say. “But I really need you to get bathroom things.”

This seems to make endless amounts of sense to Annabeth, because she nods immediately and heads for the bathroom without a fight. Percy audibly sighs in relief, pulls at the stupid, ugly sock with all his might, and ends up ripping a fair-sized hole through the striped pattern.

He tucks the ring underneath his favorite jacket and pulls the zipper to the end of the track just as Annabeth leans out from the bathroom doorway. "Shampoo, conditioner, respective deodorants, toothpaste, toothbrushes, floss, and mouthwash. Am I forgetting anything?"

Percy hums thoughtfully, leaning against his dresser, a dirty grin spreading across his face. "I feel like condoms should without a doubt be on that list."

She acts like she’s scandalized, gasping while she throws her box of dental floss at his shoulder, but she laughs in the end. Percy knows he's lucky.

;;

Turns out, he and Annabeth ended up kissing a lot in the eighth grade. He got to experience the awful, intrinsically teenaged moment where his mom walked in on them, Annabeth's hands hinting at the hem of his shirt for the first time. Thankfully, his mom entered and exited before his shirt was actually removed. Sally laughed more than she chastised him, and Percy blushed through his relief. In the end, he was grounded for a week, with no Annabeth visits.

Needless to say, his shirt doesn’t come off until about six months later. It’s worth the wait.

Percy doesn't remember explicitly asking her to be his girlfriend, but after a while she started calling him her boyfriend. Percy wasn’t in any sort of position to complain about that development. She kissed him when she left, smiled up at him adoringly when he did something stupid (which was a little more often than they both like to admit), and held his hand every so often. Eighth grade year was one of the high points in Percy's life.

They broke up that summer after a fight that lasted three days. The break up only lasted two. Percy bought Annabeth a strawberry lemonade from the local deli and Annabeth let him inside her house. Making up was the easy part, since, at the time, Percy could get away with anything so long as he apologized and kissed Annabeth like he meant it—and there wasn't a single time that he didn't.

Percy's teenage years consisted of falling in love with Annabeth and failing his math classes. It was time well spent, if you ask him. Even if he never understood how to multiply matrices, his adolescence comes to an end with Annabeth gripping onto his arm, leaning up to whisper 'happy birthday, Percy' in his ear, like it was a secret no one else was allowed to hear.

;;

"I've always loved this place," Annabeth says, digging her toes into the sand and leaning back against Percy's chest. He holds her close. "Lots of good memories here."

Percy presses his smile against her shoulder, laughing like he can't help himself. "Like the time I was trying to say 'I love you' and you despite _knowing_ what I was going to say, pushed me underwater?"

"I had no clue," Annabeth replies airily, which makes it evident that she most definitely did. "It was very surprising."

"You said 'I love you, too' before I had even said 'I love you,'" Percy mumbles into her shirt. "You weren't surprised."

"I was saving you the trouble," Annabeth informs him, lifting her shoulder to nudge him a little. "Just looking out for you. I thought you were going to die from stuttering."

"I did not stutter!" Percy denies, though they both know he did. He snuggles in closer to Annabeth, until he can smell the perfume she put on early that morning. It’s instinct to start pressing light kisses into her skin. "I was confident. Composed. Charming."

"Yep, that's you," Annabeth replies flatly, rubbing at his arms like she’s thanking him for the kisses. He loves her, a little. “Percy Jackson: confident, composed, and charming. I've never heard a more apt description."

Percy frowns a little, but he knows her sarcasm rings true. "'M a little charming."

"Whatever you say, dear," Annabeth says, patting his hand like they're an old married couple. Percy's chest warms at the thought.

"If I'm not charming, then how did I woo you?" Percy hugs her nearer, though they're just about as close as can be. The sun finished setting a while ago, but Annabeth hasn't voiced any discomfort and Percy would live here in the sand, if he could. After all, the sand’s where it all started.

"You didn't woo me," Annabeth decides, after a second. "One day I just turned around and realized I liked you. I haven't a clue what happened there, honestly. I could do better."

Percy bites at her shoulder in retaliation, but they both end up laughing. It's true, Percy thinks. He can't remember much build up to realizing his crush on her; it seemed to appear from nowhere—a sudden, insuppressible nervousness around her, and a newfound want to kiss his friend. It wasn't a very loud realization, either, and Percy has a feeling his subconscious knew it was going to happen all along.

They go inside after Percy starts worrying about some rogue beach spider attacking his Annabeth while his vision is limited by the darkness. She falls asleep on his chest, cold toes pressing close to his warm calf, and Percy wants something like this forever.

That's the goal of the weekend, anyways.

;;

"I like the name Riley," Annabeth shared, making valiant attempts to edge in some last minute study time before her exam. She turned the page, eyes skimming from left to right.

"Riley Jackson," Percy mused, not even bothering to reach for his own notes. At that point, he already knew all that he was going to for his final exam. "I like that."

"What's your mom's middle name?"

"Diane," Percy answered, following Annabeth's train of thought. "Riley Diane Jackson?"

Annabeth nodded in approval. "If we ever have a girl."

"And if it's a boy?"

Blonde curls had fallen out of her messy updo when she rooted through her bag, searching for her phone. "I have to go; my exam starts in twenty," she said, leaning over the library table to kiss him goodbye. "Good luck with Individual and Family Psychopathology."

Percy gave his thanks, kissing her twice to make up for the fact that he had no clue what the title of her course is. "Good luck to you, too. You'll do great."

"I sure hope so," Annabeth replied, moving to push her textbook into her backpack.

"Hey, I'll carry it. No need to have an aching back during your exam."

"You're the one with back problems," she reminded him, but Percy had only shrugged, unconcerned with that fact. "If we have a boy, we're naming it Perseus."

She ran a hand through his hair on her way out, calling out a quiet 'love you' over her shoulder. Percy aced his exam.

;;

He wakes up to a hand tracing no certain shape across his chest. Percy hums, content to stay in bed all day enjoying the warmth, but Annabeth speaks up before he can fall back asleep.

"Do you still like Riley Diane? Because I was thinking about it, and I decided I really like the name Ruby."

"At least let me be fully conscious before we choose a name for our future daughter," Percy mutters, throwing his arm over his face to block out the sun.

"Percy, this is important," Annabeth says, shifting so that their torsos line up. Percy peeks down at her. "I mean, either way this daughter has the same initials as Robert Downey Jr., which is cool."

Percy snorts in laughter, wrapping his arm around Annabeth's shoulders. "I think we should just have twins. Ruby and Riley."

Annabeth sounds interested in that idea. Percy takes one of her curls in between his fingertips, idly twirling it. "But who gets the Diane?"

Percy pauses, realizing that both of his daughters having the same middle name wouldn't be ideal. "Riley Diane and Ruby Marie. My mom and yours."

Annabeth pets his chest, smiling to herself. "That's a good idea."

"Riley and Ruby and... Perseus. Poor guy; he's the odd man out."

"That's probably something that just comes along with the name," Annabeth teases, pinching him where he hand rests. "Now, come out. We need to go hunt down a breakfast diner."

Later that night, Percy removes the velvet box from the sock and flips the small, black box open to ensure that the ring is still safe and sound. It's just as shiny and beautiful as the day he bought it, and Percy knows that tonight's the night. It has to be, he thinks as he pushes his dufflebag back underneath the bed, because he loves Annabeth more than anything and he's not so sure he could go another day with her just being his girlfriend, and not his fiance.

"Percy, are you r—?"

He snaps the box shut, frantically searching for a place to put the ring. He tries to slide it into his pocket, but the box falls to the floor when Percy lets go, forgetting that he’s still standing around in his boxers, despite having entered the room with the intention of putting on shorts.

He hears Annabeth footsteps, far too close for comfort, and, in a panic, he kicks the box lightly, sending it skittering across the floor and underneath the bed. Percy starts pulling on his shorts, mentally shouting curse words. He might even mutter one or two aloud.

"What was that noise?" Annabeth asks, glancing around the room. "Are you alright?"

"I just dropped my phone," Percy says, waving her off. "Nothing to be worried about." He swallows thickly, glancing at the bedsheets like they can help him, knowing there's no chance she'll let him search beneath the bed for something—not without telling her what that something is.

The thing is, Percy's confidence is starting to wane. What if fate and destiny and all those other ominous forces are intervening, trying to tell him that it's not meant to be right now; that he should wait? What if fate's telling him Annabeth's answer won't be as affirmative as he thinks it'll be?

Clenching his jaw, Percy admits defeat, sliding on his flip flops and taking Annabeth's outstretched hand. "Yeah, I'm ready."

They go for a walk on the beach, just like Percy planned, except it doesn't end with a proposal at the water line.

;;

"Don't you dare," Annabeth said, a murderous look in her eyes. Percy went in for the kill, swiping his finger across her jaw, a line of chocolate ice cream left in its wake.

"Better start looking for a new girlfriend," Annabeth suggested idly, hand inching towards the sugar packets. Percy didn't like where that was going at all, so he leaned over and kissed the chocolate off her face. The fact that she didn't even shove him off said a million things about their relationship. "This is what I get for buying you ice cream, isn't it?"

"Should have known better." Percy shrugged, resting his arm on the back of her chair. "I don't know about you, Annabeth—"

"Percy, it stops being funny after the eighth time you—"

"But I'm feeling 22," Percy finished, tone gravely serious. "Everything will be alright if—"

"Stop," Annabeth ordered, holding a flattened palm up. "Please. Spare me." She used the same hand to grab a napkin from the holder, borrowing the condensation from her glass of Coke to clean her jaw off.

" _Well_ ," Percy said, "someone's clearly not feeling 22. Is it, perhaps, because the said someone is only a mere 21 years of age?"

"This is going to get old _so_ quickly," Annabeth muttered to herself, eating the last bit of her ice cream cone.

"I suppose for a youngling like you, it would," Percy said, puffing up his chest. "Us 22 year olds have the endurance of a thousand... Uh. We're very endurant."

"Enduring," Annabeth corrected, more out of habit than anything.

Percy smiled. "This whole 'moving-in-together' thing is going to be great," he said, gripping her shoulder in excitement. "You can correct me all the time. I can be wrong all the time. You can tell me not to feel 22. I can continue to feel 22."

"I get the gist," Annabeth mumbled, elbowing his ribcage. "You can cook me breakfast."

Percy hummed in consideration. "You'll have to supervise. Remember—?"

"Yes, I remember when you almost set my kitchen ablaze while we were attempting to make mac and cheese." Annabeth smiled begrudgingly at the memory. "Maybe we should refrain from having arguments while cooking?"

"Good plan," Percy said, knocking their temples together. "Save the arguments for other rooms in the house."

"The office is a good place." Annabeth cocked her head to the side. "Lots of heavy objects in there. Better yet, I could just staple you to death when you piss me off."

Percy didn't think that sounded all that pleasant, but Annabeth seemed amused at the prospect so he didn't mention it. "Staple me to death, then. _That's_ romance. Romeo and Juliet need to get on our level."

Annabeth laughed so loudly that a little girl with curls turned in her seat to see what all the commotion was. Percy just smiled at Annabeth like he couldn't help himself—which, more often than not, was the case.

;;

Percy's first day waking up beside Annabeth was what made him realize that he wanted to have her in his life for an extended period of time. Preferably an extended period of time where they're together and in love. In other words, Percy decided he wanted to marry Annabeth.

It wasn't a hypothetical anymore—wasn't a noncommittal 'I'm sure we'll get married someday in the future,' not at all. Percy's realization was a soul-shaking, redefining, 'oh my god I actually want to be with this girl for the rest of my life' type thing.

Naturally, the first thing he did was call his mother. He dropped the news, explained that he was seriously considering engagement and marriage, much to Sally's delight. "I always knew this would happen," his mom had said, voice a little teary.

Percy had made his way to the local sweet shop, requesting a doughnut for him and a croissant for Annabeth. When he got home, Annabeth's hair was still dripping from a shower she must have taken in his absence, and she was rooting through a box that read _BOOKS_ on the side.

"Hey," she greeted him brightly. "I was wondering where you went."

He brandished the brown paper bag as an explanation. "Breakfast."

Annabeth made a sound of triumph, grasping the book she was looking for in her hands. She stared down at the cover for a second, then looked up at him with a look he couldn't read—something part happiness and part hesitance. "This is our first morning together," she said, after a beat of silence.

Percy grinned to himself as he waded through the boxes to reach the kitchen, fumbling for a paper plate in the stack they had set aside on their counter. "The first of many," Percy responded, holding up his chocolate doughnut like it was a glass of champagne. "I'd like to make a toast."

Annabeth played along, making her way to the kitchen and lifting her croissant. "Toast away."

It took him a few seconds to gather his thoughts, at the time, but Percy's always called it his most well-spoken moment. "To you." He tapped his doughnut against her croissant, meeting her eyes. "The very best thing in my life."

Annabeth's smile was genuine, her kiss was sweet, and Percy refused to live a life where that kiss wasn't his—every morning until he didn't have any more left.

;;

"So I tried the wine glass idea, like I told you I would," Percy says, sitting at the wooden table his mom's had since he was a kid. "But you know that didn't work out. And we got back from the beach yesterday..."

"I didn't see a ring on Annabeth's finger," Sally says gently, like Percy might break if she said it with any other tone. "She didn't say no, did she, sweetheart?"

Percy shakes his head quickly. "No, no. I never asked."

Sally swats at him with the dish towel in her hand. "Why not, Percy? I'm not getting any younger here, and I'd like to see my son get married before I kick the bucket!"

His mom’s just teasing with the intent to lighten his mood (Percy’s sulking, without a doubt), but he frowns at the mention of his mother dying. Sally Jackson’s an immortal being in his eyes. "Well... I kind of dropped the ring? On the floor? And Annabeth was about to walk in so I panicked and kicked it beneath the bed. She wanted to leave right then, so I didn't have any time to crawl under the bed and, you know, find the ring."

Sally seems to understand, but she still gives Percy a reprimanding, maternal look. "Be more careful, next time."

"Yes, Mom," Percy scoffs, dropping his forehead none-too-gently on the table. "I'm never going to get to marry her if I can't even ask her."

"Oh, shush," Sally admonishes, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Why not just try again?"

"I'm starting to feel like it's a sign, or something. The fact that it keeps going wrong." Percy’s never been superstitious, but he’s believed in fate ever since he met Annabeth. It’s possible that fate’s trying to help him out with a few neat nudges away from his goal.

"It's only happened twice," Sally says firmly, rubbing his back. "Once is chance, twice is a coincidence, third time is a pattern. Try again."

;;

Percy narrows his eyes at the white wall before him. He doesn't have enough friends to form a flash mob (not that Annabeth would appreciate such a public proposal), doesn't have enough guts to get the both of them into a hot air balloon, and there's no fair in town to give him a chance on the ferris wheel.

He cocks his head to the side, thinking of things he's seen in movies and read in books, wondering what she would like the most. Annabeth's far from a hopeless romantic, but she likes his spontaneous gestures when he goes through with them.

Truth be told, Percy considers as many as four sickeningly cliche things he could do for Annabeth on a daily basis. Most of the time, he manages to control his urges, but today there's a bouquet of flowers in her favorite vase on the kitchen counter, the ingredients to her favorite meal spread out on the counter, and a box of chocolates off to the side. One moment he was searching for Oreos, and the next thing he knew, Percy had a shopping cart full of Annabeth Things.

He's not willing to put the wedding ring in her food, partly because he doesn't want to get the ring dirty but mostly because he really doesn't want his girlfriend to choke while he's trying to form a lifetime bond. Percy's read up on proposals earlier that day, sorted through them until his eyes were aching from exertion, having forced himself to read so much so quickly. None of them felt right, so eventually he pushed his laptop aside and went to the grocery store.

"Meaningful," Percy mutters to himself, his leg bouncing up and down restlessly. He takes a sip of his drink—Cherry Coke, the only beverage they have available besides water. He should have bought a few more two-liters while he was at the store. "Important and unforgettable."

What he should do is ask her over dinner, which is both traditional and romantic, and something she would appreciate over any sort of loud, public proposal. He should Cherry Coke and dine her, he should. Maybe start out with a long speech about how much she means to him, how he wants to spend forever with her, how he's ready to take on the world with Annabeth as his only ally.

Percy stares at the front door. She’ll be home any minute now, and he'll get to watch the pleased smile spread across her face when she sees what he has laid out.

By the time he’s boiling some water, button-up shirt tucked into his jeans and a black box that’s become a fixture in his front pocket, Percy’s mentally, physically, and emotionally prepared to ask Annabeth to marry him. He cooks the pasta to perfection, brings out their fancy dinnerware, and debates whether or not he has time to call Jason to get a last minute pep talk.

Before he can even remember where he’s left his phone, he hears the sound of a key being jammed into their lock. He smooths his shirt, which doesn’t change it’s hopelessly wrinkled state, and Annabeth pushes her way inside, a stack of file folders in her arms.

She doesn’t even look up at him, far too concerned with getting the papers on a flat surface safely, but when she does, her smile starts slow. “Baby!” Annabeth greets, peering around the kitchen and their small dining room with genuine elation on her face.

Percy doesn’t get the pet names all that often, so he smiles like an idiot for a moment. “Hey there. How was work?”

She comes up behind him, hooking her chin over his shoulder so she can see what he’s cooking. “You’re making my favorite,” she sing-songs, looping her arms over his shoulders in a hug. He reaches up to pat her wrist in greeting. “What are you up to?”

“Boyfriend things,” Percy says vaguely, attempting to shrug her off when she starts mouthing at his neck. “No distractions! I’m going to burn dinner.”

Annabeth relents, graciously stepping back so he can cook without hindrance. “I’m going to get out of these heels, and I have one _teeny-tiny_ phone call to make, but after that I’m all yours.”

Percy dishes out the chicken alfredo, pours them both a glass of Cherry Coke, and pats his pocket to reassure himself that the box is still there. He can hear Annabeth’s voice, muffled through the closed door to their bedroom. Percy figures he has a few minutes until she’ll emerge from the room, so he works up a brief outline for how he wants the night to go from here on out.

He wants to ask Annabeth about her day, and get a real answer this time, rather than an off-topic question. Then, when Annabeth asks him why he decided to do all these nice things for her, he’s going to tell her that it’s for a special occasion. And Annabeth’ll probably spend a few seconds going through her mental calendar, wondering if she’s somehow missed an anniversary or a birthday, and after she realizes that she didn’t, she’ll ask him what the occasion is. Then, fate-willing, Percy’ll kneel down with all the grace he has (which isn’t all that much, for the record, but he thinks he’d give up ten years of being able to walk without tripping to get this right), and he’ll ask Annabeth to marry him. She’ll say yes.

“All yours,” Annabeth announces upon her re-entry, sitting in the seat right next to Percy and pulling her plate in front of her. He’d originally sat her across from himself, but if Annabeth wants to move her chair closer and then some, Percy won’t argue. “ _God_ , work was a joke today. Salinger didn’t even come in, first of all, and every single intern we had decided to stay on their phones _all day long_ , so I had to pick up the slack. I swear, I run that place every time Salinger neglects to show up for work.”

“Should just start your own business,” Percy says, but he squeezes her knee to comfort her. “I’m sorry you’re stressed.”

“Nah, it’s whatever,” Annabeth shrugs, glancing over her shoulder. “Why all the flowers and favorite dinners?”

“There’s chocolate, too,” Percy mentions, though that’s not really the point. “Just… you know.”

And here would be the part where he mentions the special occasion; where he slides his chair back and bends one of his knees to the ground—or, at least, it _should_ be that time, but Percy’s limbs aren’t responding to his brain’s request. He feels locked in place, not even able to bring his forkful of chicken alfredo up to his mouth. Everything is so much _easier_ when he’s off in his own little world, imagining how smoothly it’ll go. Mostly because he forgets to factor in reality.

“Everything alright?” Annabeth asks, leaning over until her shoulder bumps into his. “You’ve been off lately. I’d wondered earlier, but I figured I’d at least give you a little time to tell me before I asked.”

“Yeah, it’s all fine,” Percy assures her, but he still can’t talk his limbs into moving. Good thing he has a Plan B, and good thing he has a girl who’s told him time and time again to be prepared. “I’ve been thinking a lot, lately, um—like, about what’s important. To me.”

“Right.” If anything, Annabeth looks more confused.

“And there are certain things more important to me than others,” he continues. “So I’ve been thinking about _how_ I can make sure the important things stay, and kind of… Rid. Of the rest of it.”

Annabeth clears her throat, not quite meeting his eyes. “Before you go any further, can I just ask… You aren’t breaking up with me, are you? Because—”

Percy full-on laughs, his limbs deciding to work when he uses his hands to cover his face. He wishes he was a little better with words—a little more charming and composed and confident. Instead, all that comes out is vague half-sentences that mostly consist of the words ‘yeah’ and ‘so.’ He means to say “I’d never break up with you” or something equally assuaging, but instead what tumbles out is “Christ, Annabeth, I’m not going to—this is my _third_ time trying to _propose_ to you, for god’s sake.”

Annabeth drops her fork. Percy’s heart falls right along with it. “ _What_?”

“Oh no,” Percy says to himself, since he’s wanted to say it for months now, but never like that. “Oh no.”

“At the restaurant,” she says in realization, voice full of awe. “You were upset when I didn’t order wine. You were going to—”

“I don’t like talking about past failures,” Percy mumbles weakly. The ring’s never burned a hole in his pocket so fiercely as it does now.

“And the vacation!” He can hear the rising excitement in her voice, the same way she always sounds when she solves a mystery, figuring out something that had puzzled her for some time. “And… And… oh _god_ , Percy, please don’t tell me you kept my future ring in that awful pair of socks.”

It’s so _Annabeth_ to complain about something like that at a time like this—something so refreshingly and spectacularly her that he finds the will to pull his face out of his hands, a besotted smile on his face. “You’re worried about the fact that your _engagement ring_ touched the socks?” he says, slowly.

Annabeth doesn’t seem embarrassed. She gives him a very serious look. “The socks are awful, Percy.”

And he’s laughing, perhaps more in love than he’s been in his entire life. He hopes the feeling only keeps growing from here on out. His hands are shaking—not from apprehension and worry, but from the absolute _tsunami_ of love that crashes over him. There’s no way he can’t marry Annabeth, not when he feels like he does about her. “I’m gonna ask you now. Good?”

“I’ll pretend I’m surprised,” Annabeth promises, tapping his cheekbone. Percy finds that he can’t stop smiling. “Go for it.”

It’s not going the way he planned in the slightest, but the feeling in his chest is all warmth and no doubt while he digs the ring box out from his pocket, flipping it open. Annabeth covers her smile with one hand, peeking down at the ring for only a moment before she looks back to him. “Annabeth Chase—”

“ _Jackson_ ,” she interrupts with a smug smile, because she can never resist.

Percy rolls his eyes, letting out a laugh that sounds like a hundred declarations of love. “Annabeth _Chase_ ,” he repeats, “soon to be Annabeth Jackson”—he takes a moment to pause, appreciating the weight of what he’s about to say, about every promise he’s making with the next four words—“will you marry me?”

Annabeth leans down to kiss him before she even answers, holding his face in both of her hands while she presses her smile right against his. Percy can’t even remember why he was worried about fate in the first place. She pulls back, but only enough to look him in the eyes. “I want an August wedding, the weekend after your birthday. My bridesmaids dresses will be lavender, and the wedding dress’ll be white with silver accents. And—”

Percy presses in closer to her, laughing a little when he kisses along her jaw. “Who’s getting married? You haven’t even said yes yet.”

And, honestly, Percy wasn’t lying when he said everyone knew what the answer would be, including himself, but nothing compares to hearing Annabeth say “Yeah, I’ll marry you.”

It’s that much better when she tacks an “idiot” on the end, and Percy’s smile is so wide, he presses it against Annabeth’s shoulder before she can tease him for it.

;;

 _Today’s the day,_ Percy thinks, straightening his bowtie in the mirror. By the time it’s nightfall, he’ll be married to the best girl in the world.

He waits at the altar, unable to do much else besides stare at the doors Annabeth’s supposed to walk through, listening to the quiet chatter of all the guests. It’s an intimate affair, no more than 40 people seated and standing around the room. It’s all a stunning white with touches of lavender here and there—like the flowers pinned to everyone’s chairs, and the square of fabric in his pocket.

When she appears in the entryway, there’s a collective gasp, and Jason squeezes his shoulder from where he stands as the best man. Percy’s smile is blinding.

**Author's Note:**

> GOD
> 
> my tumblr is maydayparade8123 (and [this is the rec post](http://maydayparade8123.tumblr.com/post/96212350284/imagine-me-and-you-7-7k-percys-going-to) if that interests you

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Memories Are Made of This](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11625873) by [ej3467273](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ej3467273/pseuds/ej3467273)




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